Little Wanton
by R.A.I.731
Summary: "Nonsense. You have always gone by either Matoaka or Pocahontas, and I will call you as such."  Horrifying realization dawned across Carlos' face as the dots connected in his mind. He was definitely not on the banks of the James River anymore.
1. Lost

**This one goes out to Clarry and Runaway Baby, for being super nice and amazing writers. Clarry wrote a fic where Logan goes into the past, and we found an interesting interview...The guys are time travelers. Logan said he'd go to the 50's, James would go to the future, Kendall to the 20's, and Carlos to the time of Pocahontas. the fic is Everything In It's Time, and its simply wonderful. Thanks guys, for putting up with my Disney nonsense. R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush or Pocahontas or anything else you recognize. **

As much as everyone would like to think of the four boys of Big Time Rush, they had only once caught Hollywood fever. They were still the same four, down to earth guys that they were when they came to Hollywood. Which was why they decided to vacation in the wilderness of Virginia instead of some place exotic, like Cabo. It was actually Kendall's idea, after they were asked in an interview if they thought they could do well on Survivor. James bet him that he would die of starvation within the first week, and now, here they were, about to raft down the James River, one of the largest in Virginia. James, Kendall and Logan all felt a bit of adrenaline as they waited to boat the large yellow raft, but Carlos felt a little more frightened. He was leaning against a tree on the bank of a river, life vest securely on, helmet strapped down tightly. He bit his lip, kneading the soft flesh between his teeth in his nervous state. Kendall finally noticed, and approached his smaller friend.

"You ok there?" Kendall's eyebrows were deeply furrowed, and Carlos looked up with a small smile.

"Of all the things I have to be afraid of…" He shook his head, looking down at the space between their bodies. It was closed suddenly, and Carlos had his face smashed into the life jacket of Kendall. He giggled and embraced his friend, and the whole thing was awkward due to the vests. Kendall always seemed to have a soft spot for Carlos, and the shorter teen just shook it off as brotherly affection. He was the baby of the group, and was used to being treated with more affection from all of the guys.

"I've got you, Carlos. I'll even hold your hand," Kendall pulled back with the lightest of blushes on his face, and Carlos beamed, grabbing for the other's soft hand.

"Thank you very much, Kendall." The blonde finally pulled Carlos into the raft, James and Logan in front of them, and before they knew it, one of the two tour guides was pushing them off the river bank. They were taught some safety precautions and how to properly paddle and such. Logan and Kendall, who had once before gone river rafting with each other, were nodding along, knowing that if you were knocked from the raft you must float along with the current until you could catch onto a branch. James was only half paying attention, trusting the guide enough to save him and not flip the raft. Carlos was listening intently, and even asked him how to throw out the rope with the bag containing the life preserver more than twice. And when their guide, Dak, pushed them away from the rock that was keeping them out of the current, Carlos grabbed onto Kendall's hand until both their knuckles were white. The blonde gave him a raised brow, and a reassurance.

"Carlos, you need to trust us. You will be fine. I've got you, and you know what to do in case of emergency. Hardly anything more than a raft flip ever happens. And besides, you've got your trusty helmet to protect you," Kendall smiled and lightly tapped the black protection on Carlos' head with his paddle, which earned a pout from the Latino and what sounded like a scolding from the guide. There was about a half mile of easy cruising, in which Carlos leaned himself against Kendall, loosening his grip fractionally. And when the guide announced their first set of rapids, a type that was called 'champagne', Carlos sat upright, his back as straight as a plank, and his hand tightened around his friend's all over again. They of course, came out completely safe on the other side, but with a wet and glowering Carlos.

"Why the hell did I agree to go with you guys? That was completely insane; I demand that we pull this thing over!"

James and Logan snickered, and Kendall just sighed and patted his back. Dak told him that the ride was five miles, and no, they could not pull over. Carlos turned to Kendall with a fresh pout on his lips, and what looked to be tears forming in his eyes.

"He's right Carlos. Please try it. If you stopped worrying so much then you'd see how fun it is!" Kendall gave a cheery smile, and gave Carlos' hand a squeeze before turning back to the front of the raft, and to Dak announcing that the next set of rapids were coming up. This time, Carlos listened to Kendall, and his shoulder's relaxed, letting himself giggle a little as they got tossed around with the white rapids. He came out with a small smile for the four other males, and asked how much longer the trek was at this point. Dak answered with a vague '3 or so miles', and informed them that the currents were a little slow today, and this river was usually a Class II, or even III. Another set of rapids and Dak was paddling them towards a river bank with large rocks on either side of them. He told the boys that they could o swimming if they like, and James and Logan eagerly toppled themselves into the freezing water. Kendall got out slowly, swimming over to Carlos' side of the boat and helped him get out at an even lazier pace.

Carlos laughed as every crevice of his body was flooded with ice melted water, and Kendall pulled their bodies together for the second time that day. The younger teen could tell that Kendall's bootie-clad feet were touching the bottom of the small alcove of the river, but Carlos had to hold onto the blonde in order to stay on top of the water. In that moment, Carlos felt closer to Kendall than he ever had.

"Thanks, Ken," he grinned, and resting their helmet protected foreheads together. The blonde just smiled, and his face inched closer to Carlos'. They could feel the others hot breathe on their lips, and Kendall felt so close to tasting the boy he'd been pining over for years…

And they were hit by a wave of icy water. James and Logan chuckled, high fived and started herding the two blushing teens toward the slope of pebbles on the bank of the river. The brunettes sat with their legs stretched out in front of them, the appendages still in the water. Kendall had his legs crossed, and he stared into his lap depressingly until Carlos leaned against him till his back was against the blonde's chest. He brightened immediately.

Dak was still in the raft, and had maneuvered it until it was sure to stay against one of the large boulders. He took in the sight of Kendall and Carlos, and quirked an eyebrow.

"So, I'm assuming you guys are…like together…or something?" they flushed red before glancing at each other. Carlos shook his head no, and the older teen simply shrugged.

"A little fun fact about this place; it's rumored that over the next 100 square miles was the area of Tsenachommacah, otherwise known as the homeland of the Algonquian Indians. The king, or chief, of the Algonquian's, had many daughters. One of which was Pocahontas herself." Logan raised his eyebrows, impressed at the most likely rehearsed dialog, and locked eyes with the guide.

"So it's possible that I could be sitting where Pocahontas or John Smith or Chief Powhatan sat four hundred or so year ago?" The oldest of the band asked, and Dak nodded.

"We should probably get going, the current looks like it's picking up a little," The guide nodded to himself, and they were on their way within the next ten minutes. They went through a few sets of rapids, Carlos giggling openly now, but still holding onto Kendall. Dak was talking to James lowly.

"You know, rafting season is all year. The river should not be this low…" his tone was worried and he turned away to push away from a rock with his paddle. Logan and James exchanged glances, and looked back at their friends. They were still oblivious to the problem at hand, and the guide announced the second to last concentration of rapids.

Everything was going seemingly normal. The white water was determined to soak the five males, and dying seemed to be the last of Carlos' worries at the moment. Dak was focused on the water in front of their raft, making sure no rocks were in their path due to the low river level. And suddenly, there was one. He called back a command for the right side of the raft to start paddling, _hard,_ and James set to work. The youngest member, however, froze. He couldn't do this, he was not meant to be on white water rapids. Kendall squeezed his hand, and released, and Carlos almost blindly attempted to help steer the raft out of danger. The river caught his paddle. It was ripped from his grasp, and he looked forward, stricken with a new wave of fear. Their raft hit the protruding rock. And Carlos was dislodged from his seat.

Kendall screamed, reaching out for him desperately, and Carlos was struggling to keep his head up, he had to keep his head up. Dak yelled back at him to relax and straighten out his body, that they would throw back the safety line once out of the rapids. The dark skinned teen crossed his arms over his chest, gripping to his life vest, and forced his legs in front of his torso. His heart was beating wildly against his rib cage, and he could nearly feel the fear from Kendall just as much as he could his own.

Dak had clambered his way to the back of the raft, and he was holding a rope with a bright orange life preserver on the end of it. The rapid's ceased, and he was grateful for the slow current at the moment. He called back to Carlos, instructing him to sit up to catch the preserver. Carlos reached forward, arms outstretched and eyes locked on the orange ring. Dak tossed it, and Kendall sighed in relief when his friend caught it and hooked his arm around it. The guide pulled him in slowly, and Kendall got a wet grasp on Carlos' hands. Dak grabbed the back of his vest, and together they pulled him up until one leg was securely on the raft.

What happened next was the most terrifying thing in Kendall's life. His hand slipped out of Carlos', and he lunged forward to regain some sort of hold on the teen. The sudden unbalance of weight tipped the raft, and Carlos was dunked back into the river, the current being quick to grab him. The life preserver was yanked out of Dak's hands when it caught on a jagged rock. Carlos was struggling to keep his head above water all over again, trying to regain the straight body position he had maintained before. Kendall was yelling at Dak, telling him to do something.

"Carlos! Stay relaxed until you can grab onto an overhanging branch or log! The life preserver is gone! Try to stay in one place, and we will come and find you!" Dak had somehow remained calm, and James and Logan were looking back with deeply furrowed brows and frowns. Kendall resulted to sit back, keeping his wet emerald eyes locked on Carlos. Their raft was caught by the last set of rapids, and the blonde barely caught sight of Carlos grabbing onto a fallen log that was attached to the east side of the river bank. He sighed in partial relief and bit his lip, letting Dak push him back into his seat.

Carlos was breathing heavily. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, and it was taking his energy quickly. His arms pulled him onto the log, working his body toward the bank, and he collapsed on the pebbly slope. He lost Kendall. He couldn't save himself. He was hyperventilating, the air coming in raggedly and leaving too quickly. Carlos raised his arms above his head, remembering Logan telling him that it helped open up your air passage ways. It didn't. He covered his face with his hands, resisting the urge to go and puke in the damned river, and groaned. His dark brown eyes were blinking, and each time they closed, he saw white spots in his vision. He guessed due to lack of oxygen. With one shuddering breath, he blacked out.

Fainting wasn't a very manly thing to do in Carlos's opinion, yet out of his three friends and himself, he did it the most often. He accompanied the disembodied feeling with sleeping or day dreaming. But if Carlos compared this to sleeping, his experience certainly wasn't a pleasant dream.

The scene of his hand's slipping from Kendall's replayed over and over again. He could recall the gushing water; he felt the warm hands accidently releasing his wet ones. He felt the water pulling him in and pushing him under. It replayed.

Carlos knew something was different when the water decided to free him, and he saw himself collapsing on the bank of the river, and he knew that he was about to see himself pass out. It was the strangest out of body experience he ever had. When the other Carlos' eyes fluttered closed, he was yanked out. His own eyes fluttered open, and he was staring up into the tanned and painted face of a stranger. Apparently the stranger knew him, because he smiling and started speaking a language that was foreign at first, until it morphed into something he under stood perfectly.

"…He has woken up. You must not run off like that, Matoaka. Imagine what would happen if someone else had found you. You could've been kidnapped." His voice was deep and strong, but somehow held a under lining of care. Carlos blinked several times, and the stranger began to resemble his own father.

"Dad…my name isn't Matoaka…" he sat up and looked down at himself. He was no longer wearing a life vest or helmet. He reached up and felt a smooth band wrapped around his head, and what felt like several feathers tucked into it. The only clothing on his body was something that almost resembled a skirt, except the leather only covered his…private areas. A light breeze told him that it did not actually cover anything. The man nodded, as if remembering something. "My name is Carlos."

That brought a look of deep confusion on his face, and the man stood and grabbed his bare arm, pulling the teen up with him.

"Nonsense. You have always gone by either Matoaka or Pocahontas, and I will call you as such."

Horrifying realization dawned across Carlos' face as the dots connected in his mind.

He was definitely not on the banks of the James River anymore.


	2. Foreign

**This one is for Clarry and Runaway Baby for being super sweet and amazing people. If you read the last A/N, then you know why I had to write this. Sorry, this update is a lot shorter than the first chapter, and I'm upset with that. But I like this one. Thank you reviewers, and Adam, if you read this, you should review anonymously and spam about Drarry fancomics. R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush, Pocahontas, or anything else you recognize. **

They hadn't even made it to their destination and Carlos already missed Kendall. He missed James and Logan, hell, even the river rafting guide. He had to keep calm. What would Logan do? _Probably play along, since he knows everything about Pocahontas_, he thought sourly, and a thought struck him. They were talking about Pocahontas not more than 30 minutes ago, and Dak had said something about the chief of a tribe being the father of Pocahontas. Assuming that he was _the_ Pocahontas, since the location was right, then that would mean the stranger, who he had come to accept as his authority figure, was his father.

Carlos whimpered, and he tugged at his arm. The man got a little wrinkle between his brows, and he loosened his grasp. Carlos quirked an eyebrow and tugged again. Same results. As he did it once more, the grip loosened drastically, and Carlos was sprinting through the forest before his father could even realize his fist clenched around air. The raven haired teen was retracing their steps, listening for the sound of rushing water. If he could just get back to the river, the James River; he felt a pang in his chest, missing James so much after being pulled into this foreign world.

Every tree looked the same, and the sounds of rushing water were disguised by the rustle of leaves and his quick footsteps. As if the leather slippers did anything protection wise. Carlos could feel his feet slapping against the wet forest floor, could feel a twig snap up against his leg, and every leaf that brushed his face was a noticeable touch; as if someone had passed their hand over his face. He could feel the adrenaline pumping underneath his dark skin. There was something different about this alteration of Carlos; he was leaner and stronger and faster. His eyesight did not have that slight blur that Carlos was accustomed to, his arms did not move awkwardly at his sides as he ran. This Carlos was an amplified version, and as he realized the changes, he felt himself slip more out of his dimension. He lost a finger's grasp on his world, where Kendall cared for him deeply, where James and Logan were always a team against their other friends, where he had passed out on the bank of the James River.

Carlos slowed himself, leaning against a tree and panting. So maybe the easily induced fatigue was still a common trait of every dimension of Carlos. His mind listened for the sound of water, and found is senses were clearer as well. He had taken a wrong turn, the river was to the east of where he was, and he took off, not wanting the stranger or whoever else mattered to him in this world to find him. Every tree looked the same, and tune of water was becoming fainter.

Carlos stopped himself again, regaining his breath and listening intently. There was definitely no water nearby, and Carlos felt a squeeze in his chest. He was about as close to finding his way back to Kendall as he was to going to wherever this Carlos lived and making a bow and arrow. A distinct sound pierced his ears. Was that…voices? There were surely footsteps nearby as well. Shit. He must've been found by his fellow tribesmen or something. He took a few cautious steps forward, peering around a tree and seeing the clothed backs of a few light skinned men. Ok, not his brother in hunting. The two men turned to look at each other, and Carlos took in their profiles. So they were English. One of them had blonde hair and a particularly large nose; the other with brown hair and slightly darker skin, like he spent more time in the sun than the other.

Carlos thought through everything he knew about this time period. Since his body was the same size he assumed that he was still sixteen or seventeen; who did Pocahontas meet at this age? Surely if there were strangers from another land then his whole tribe would know about it. A thought struck him. John Smith. He had meet Pocahontas, hadn't he? They had some sort of epic romance, where they were both almost killed trying to protect the other. Could one of these men be…?

The questioned didn't need to be answered; they turned and faced Carlos. They didn't see him, but Carlos took in just who they were. He felt himself regain a grasp of his Carlos. It was James. That smile and that broad chest and long legs and hazel eyes couldn't be mistaken anywhere else. The other man was Kendall. Carlos felt another pang in his chest, this one of joy. From seeing that wonderful face, those shining eyes, his mouth, his nose, his thick eyebrows; every bit of him, Carlos had missed, even if they had only been apart for an hour now. Their voices floated loftily towards Carlos, and they were only slightly altered; the tones were more practiced, as if they held themselves high enough to practice each word until it sounded proper. The two familiar men started striding towards Carlos, and he feared he had been seen for a moment before sighing. They passed by the tree that Carlos was hiding behind, and even their walks were different. Less sloppy, more…proper, again. These were definitely the old English Kendall and James. Carlos felt a smirk slide onto his face as he appreciated their asses. He could really get used to the trouser look instead of the skinny jeans he was used to. He lost another fingers grasp on his world as he realized how handsome these versions of Kendall and James were.

He stepped out from around the tree, with full intention of approaching the men. He wondered if their names were the same. Carlos took two paces, admiring how fleet footed he was as a Native American. A hand covered his mouth and wrapped firmly around his waist. He screamed against the hand, and the sound was muffled, but as his head whipped around he saw that it was the stranger-his father- again. The scream turned into a groan, and he stopped struggling. Well, he thought, at least if I go with him I'll maybe learn something about himself. The arms released him, and a deep, strong voice hissed in his ear.

"What do you think you're doing? You could have been killed, Pocahontas, you must stop running off like you are some warrior!" Oh. He wasn't a fierce tribesman then. He nodded along to the rest of the lecture, looking back at the retreating bodies of Kendall and James as he was yanked away by the stranger. A smile passed his face when the blonde turned around and looked toward him. Carlos was towed off into the forest, and James stared at his companion.

"Did you hear that?" Kendall asked, retracing a few of his steps and gazing around the forest. "I swear, I heard a voice or something…" His brows furrowed, and he glanced back to a clueless James.

"The foreign air must be making you delusional, love. It's only us. We should be heading back to the camp soon, Logan may be worrying over us." To that Kendall nodded, and he rejoined James back on the path to their base camp. The brunette placed a hand on his lower back, his thumb and pointer finger slipping under the hem of his navy blue vest. His green eyes darted to his friend, and his features expressed indifference, if not slight care. James had always seemed more…affectionate toward him than he did in reverse.

….

Carlos had entered the camp with wide eyes; he'd never seen so many teepees before in his life. They were all done superbly, he could tell, and there was an occasional fire pit. The whole area smelt of smoke and meat, and he beamed in the masculinity of it all. The men walking around camp were all bare-chested, with more mature versions of Carlos' attire. All the women had tops that covered their chests and stomachs, with open backs and sides, medium length skirts covering their lower halves. Carlos had appreciative eyes; he didn't know that Native American clothing could be so…revealing. The man had lead him straight up to a large teepee, and they turned to each other in the entrance.

"You will stay here while I and the rest of the warriors go on a scouting mission. We will find the location of those English men you saw in the forest, and attempt to find out why they are here. _You will stay here. _I want you to stay away from those strangers; they may harm you._"_ He nodded his head in affirmation, and Carlos looked at his back in disappointment as he walked away. He felt less than helpless. He stepped into the tent, seeing another boy around his age sitting on a leather mat. He brightened at the sight of Carlos, and patted a spot next to him. The raven haired teen welcomed the friendly face and sat down. Hell, if Carlos was who he thought he was, then he was going to take this to his advantage.

"So Nakoma," the name came easily from Carlos's lips, and he lost another finger's grasp on his old self, "tell me about myself."

He noticed that the words he was speaking had a different taste on his tongue; foreign. Everything was foreign. His friend looked surprised, and shot him a look before beginning.

"Your name is Pocahontas. Your birth name is Matoaka, but you also go by Amonute. Pocahontas means 'little wanton', and you are called this because you are cheerful and playful. You're father is Chief Powhatan, and he is of course the most respected warrior in the Algonquian tribe because he leads us. He has many daughters, but you are his only son. You are betrothed to Kocoum, who is a strong warrior, but not the brightest." The other teen nodded, checking through his mind to make sure he got all the information. Carlos just raised a brow.

"And why did you listen to my request?" Nakoma got a confused look on his face, and he stood, and began pacing around the teepee.

"Are you sure you are all right? I think you have forgotten yourself, you are one of the most self-assured people I know." His voice was worried, and turned up at the end, as if it were almost a question. Carlos sighed, crossing his legs and linking his hands.

"Would you just tell me?"

"Well, Pocahontas, you are the prince of the tribe. We must all respect you, and I have the most for you, because you are my closest friend."

Carlos' jaw dropped. Nobody told him Pocahontas was that important! He had no clue how to act, he was still just Carlos! Nakoma looked concerned.

"Are you alright? You must have hit your head."

Carlos nodded absently, a vague 'yes' leaving his mouth. That word didn't feel odd on his tongue. He had spoken English. He had spoken as Carlos again. He sighed in relief, feeling more normal than he ever had in this world. And he knew what he needed.

Carlos needed Kendall. He needed his beanie wearing, indie rock band singing, happy-dancing friend. He needed that scrawny shoulder of comfort, that hand that would hold his through it all. His chest panged, his throat tightened, and a tear streaked down his face.

He wanted to be home more than ever.


	3. Colors

**This chapter is specifically for Runaway Baby, because it's her birthday! Happy birthday love, and I hope you enjoy every line of this, because it was typed in love! It's also for Clarry, who is an awesome fan, and is super sweet. I would appreciate reviews guys, they are like water to me. I need water, guys.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush, Pocahontas, Kendall's Englishman pant's, or anything else you recognize.**

Two men were leaning over the side of one of the largest ships that London had seen yet. They passed a bottle of cheap wine between them, surveying the weeping families and the not-so brave, but arrogant, men that they were sending off. Bread, wine, water, and crackers filled crates were scattered on the deck, most of which having already been loaded into the lower cabin of the ship. One of the men, the taller one, took a swig of wine and passed it to the other, standing up straight and running a hand across his broad chest. The other simply drained the bottle, dropping it carelessly into the water than divided the boat and the stone dock. The first man slapped his shoulder, and he responded with a shrug.

"Do you know who's captaining the ship?" the second man turned around, leaning backwards on the railing and crossing his arms. The first man developed a shocked look, and then his eyes squinted up.

'You're an idiot. Who the hell else would be leading us to the New World other than Kendall Smith? You must also think the savages will be welcoming to us…" he rolled his eyes and pointed to the loading dock. "That's him right there."

A tall blonde man was striding up the ramp, a casual black vest over a loose white shirt and grey trousers. A shorter brunette was walking with him, looking half as put together and twice as inexperienced. An easy wave was thrown to the now arguing set of men, and Kendall chuckled.

"Calm down, Logan. No, I won't let the Natives attack you, no, I don't know what to expect of the New World. I'm sure it will be as interesting as London or even more so. I've seen a hundred new worlds. Every day you wake up is a new world, don't you think?" he mused mostly to himself, and Logan found himself bumping into Kendall's back as he had suddenly stopped. They were standing at the bow of the ship, Kendall with a puffed out chest and Logan staring down at his hands. They glanced at each other.

"Any which way you put it," Kendall threw an arm around the shorter man's shoulders and guided them away. "You're being far too nervous. I suppose with you being someone is so…logical, you don't see each day as a new world. This is a once in a life time opportunity to you. So don't waste it being over analytical!" Logan nodded, and with a slight push, went over to the railing to catch lines. They were to leave the dock at noon, and even without a watch he could tell that it was fast approaching.

Anyone on the dock or in sight of the ship could tell you that setting it sails and casting off was one of the most spectacular things ever. As soon as every heavy rope was thrown onto the deck, the men that had climbed high onto the masts dropped the canvas sails, and the wind caught them and pulled them out of the harbor with Kendall at the wheel.

Whereas the sleeping quarters of the swabbies were the least luxurious thing you would ever see, the cabin at the back of the ship that was occupied by Governor Ratcliffe was very nice. He had ordered some of the work men to haul on board his dresser, a desk with a large mirror attached to it, and a bed heavy enough to most likely stay in place throughout the voyage. Currently, he was stretched out on it, his assistant massaging his left thigh while straddling the other one. Needless to say, each time the assistant dipped his hips down the slightest, James' trousers tented up even higher. His long hand travelled down to the other man's waist, and he gave a squeeze so that the help would meet his eyes.

"Could you fetch Kendall Smith for me?" Although James couldn't remember the assistant's name at the moment, he thought he was a keeper, especially as the helps' hand brushed over his crotch on his way off the bed. James reached down and rubbed at himself, a low hum of appreciation in his throat before sitting up and gazing at the door to his cabin.

The assistant, Robert, as James now recalled, lead Kendall in, and left when the Governor gave him an off-handed wave. Kendall stood awkwardly in the door way, and James beckoned him over and pulled him into the spread of his legs. A hand clenched his round arse and Kendall pushed his hips back and tried to change the awkward look into a smile.

"We're well on our way. I left the wheel with the first mate, and it looks like easy winds and clear skies until the horizon."

James nodded and reached up, making to unbutton Kendall's shirt. The blonde starts popping out the buttons from the bottom and they met in the middle, James' eyes roving over his pale skin. The brunette leant forward and laid kisses along his torso, and Kendall's hand snaked into the brown locks. There was a sudden lurching, and Kendall fell sideways and slid till his back hit the wall. James looked stunned, and the furniture was shifting slightly. As Kendall scrambled to his feet, he threw a 'Stay here!' over his shoulder and bolted out of the room.

The first mate was still managing the wheel, and Kendall threw him an OK hand signal before rushing over to a group of men who were trying to secure the sails. The storm had been sudden and harsh; rain was pounding into his vision, wind whipped his hair around, and the sound of waves smacking against the side of the boat drowned out any other noise. Out of the corner of his eyes, almost in his blind spot, the captain saw Logan struggling to tie down a runaway canon. He was tugging feebly on a rope as stronger men rushed around him. On natural instincts, Kendall clambered his way across the deck and helped him slide the canon back into its cubby. Logan shouted a thank you over the storm, and before Kendall could even give him a 'no problem' pat on the back, the ship lurched again, and Logan was tumbling over the side of the boat.

Kendall let out a scream, looking around wildly. Logan was getting further and further out of sight, being pushed under the brutal wave's and-there! The blonde sprinted back to the second mast, hooked a looped rope around his ankle, and dived off the stern of the boat. The main halyard line that was tied around his ankle controlled the back sail; as the waves forced him back and he swam toward Logan, the large canvas sail was being pulled up, taking care of two problems at once.

Somehow Kendall had kept an eye on Logan, and a wave forced him under, and Kendall dived, stretching an arm out to the flailing male. Once Logan realized what was happening, he wrapped all four of his appendages around Kendall's body, and the blonde burst to the surface of the water, waving his arms in the 'HELP, MAN OVERBOARD' way that they had been taught so many times. Kendall caught sight of two burly men, one brunette and one with red hair that stood out even when wet, grab onto the line and began towing the sobbing Logan and gasping Kendall back in.

After what seemed like an hour, but must have been only minutes, the men were collapsing against the deck. Kendall coughed, noticing dully that the storm had lessened, before turning his gaze to Logan. The event was clearly more traumatic for him, as he was coughing and sputtering, and _fuck_ he was going to start hyperventilating. The captain rolled over, a knee on either side of Logan's waist, and he forced Logan's shaking arms over his head.

"BREATH, DAMMIT!"

Logan tried nodding weakly, a sob escaping his throat and the shouted command from Kendall did nothing as his breaths were stilled ragged. He finally got control, now panting slightly under Kendall, and the blonde stepped up and away from Logan. The small man on the deck choked out a 'thank you', and Kendall rolled his eyes and turned around, right into the broad chest of Governor Ratcliffe. The blonde blushed, realizing now that his shirt was still hanging open and that he was sopping wet. James picked at a shoulder of his soaked vest and raise a brow.

"Explain, Kendall."

"Well, Logan went overboard, and I thought that if I pulled the main halyard line with me when I went for Logan that it would pull in the sail. And it worked, Governor." Kendall gave a small smile, and looked around. The skies had cleared, and if he looked to the east, where they had just come, he could see dark storm clouds. A warm and dry hand directed his head and gaze to the bow of the boat, and his eyes squinted against the sun. Was that…land?

….

Carlos had found Kendall again. He was standing on the edge of a small slope, overlooking the bank of the river where a huge boat was anchored. Apparently when he had seen the blonde earlier, he was doing a small scouting trip with James, and now the pale skinned man was gazing across the land. Carlos was smiling lightly, crouched behind a large bush and peering through the branches while idly petting a raccoon that had been following him. Kendall suddenly turned around, rubbed his belly, and extracted a round cracker from his pocket. Before he could even put it in his mouth, the raccoon had perked up and scampered forward at the sight of food.

Carlos attempted to not gasp as Kendall leant down and offered the food to the raccoon. The animal took it hesitantly, looking back at the bush that Carlos was hiding behind.

"Do you have another friend back there?" the blonde's tone was soft but still accented, and Carlos almost stopped to listen before. He couldn't decide whether to run or stay and remain quiet. Kendall was _not_ supposed to see him, but another part of him wanted Kendall to find him, to see his reaction when he saw his future best friend hiding in a blackberry bush. But as Carlos was mulling this over, the captain had already stepped forward and was looking down in shock at Carlos.

"A…a savage. Were you spying on me?" his wonderful voice became accusatory, and a hand went to the bet that held a shining knife. Carlos gasped, shook his head, and scrambled backward before bolting away from Kendall and his very surprising knife.

Ever since Carlos noticed the changes in his body, they became more and more pronounced, and he knew he could outrun the English man. He ran the opposite direction from the boat, stumbling down a slope and coming to a stream. There were perfect stepping stones across it and Carlos leapt from each one, looking back and realizing he had engulfed himself in mist. He heard light foot steps behind him, and he ducked down, feet slipping into the stream. Kendall finally came to stand directly in front of him, eyes peering through the haze and taking in Carlos' appearance.

What Kendall saw surprised him. The Native, obviously younger than him, didn't look primitive or grimy. He was…he was beautiful. While James had a sort of esteemed, groomed type of handsomeness, this tan male in front of him carried a natural beauty, with an even skin tone and soft features. Kendall almost dared to think that he was more attractive to him than James was. The boy started slowly backing up, a panicked look sweeping over his face, and Kendall dropped the knife.

"I won't hurt you, I promise!"

But Carlos was already running away, dashing between trees and going deeper and deeper into the forest. Kendall cursed, following after him and trying to keep an eye on his tan back. They finally met each other, Carlos ending up backed up against a tree, Kendall with a hand on either side of his head in order to keep him where he was. They were both panting slightly, and the Englishman was the first to speak.

"I don't mean to harm you. I was just using my defenses. Can you understand me?"

Carlos could understand him perfectly. Every word was clear English, but he wasn't so sure he could respond. He had continued to have an odd sensation fill his mouth every time he spoke, and he knew that he hadn't been speaking English the last two days. _What did Pocahontas do in the movie?... Oh yeah. Just listen, Carlos._

His brown eyes closed hesitantly, not wanting to look away from Kendall, but needing to communicate with him. So his eyes closed, his breathing slowed, and his senses struggled to dull back to those of Carlos Garcia, not Pocahontas. When his eyes opened, he knew exactly how to respond.

"Yes, I can understand you…" he whispered, and smiled slightly at the comfortable way the words sat on his tongue. Kendall smiled back, and brought a hand down to brush over Carlos' cheek. The Native was already so intriguing, and yet he didn't even know his name. An hour later found them lying next to each other, cloud watching through a gap in the leaves of the large trees.

"Why did you come here, Kendall?" Carlos asked, reaching for his hand.

"Well, I came over with a large crew and Governor James Ratcliffe, and we are supposed to search the land for gold and cut down trees in order to build a colony."

The smaller of the two furrowed his brows; that didn't sound like Kendall at all. Of course it didn't, but any Kendall that Carlos was going to tolerate was supposed to be caring and neutral to his environment, not wanting to cut down trees in order to build a house. He sat up.

"But why? It's so pretty, the land. I couldn't imagine a city or colony on the bank of the river, could you?" Carlos quirked his eyebrow this time, and Kendall sighed, sitting up as well.

"I'm simply following orders. We were instructed to build a town and search for gold, and kill any savages that get-"

"Savages? Why would you call us that? And there's no gold here, just earth." The word's flowed easily from Carlos' mouth, and he didn't know where they were coming for or why he felt anger at the term 'savage'.

"Oh, I suppose we use the term savage to describe…well… how you live. In England we are much more… uptight and sophisticated, if you would."

Carlos rolled his eyes; of course Kendall _Smith_ would say that, but he would have to learn a lot in order to be accepted to Carlos. As accepted as his Kendall was to him. Instead of fighting back, he just sighed and decided on a different tact.

"Have you ever really looked at nature? How birds fly, how the grass ripples, how trees reach down to you? Or how animals are not naturally fearful of humans? Or how the wind is…whimsical and colorful and the whole world is beautiful. You pale people shouldn't ruin it with your buildings and by digging holes, looking for something that's not there," Carlos said this all in one or two breaths, and Kendall looked stunned. The raven haired teen pulled the captain and him to their feet, leading him to the edge of the woods.

"Now just breathe, and listen."

What Kendall felt next was some sort of exhilarating. The hues around him brightened, and the sounds developed a tune, and the air smelt of water and grass and pine. Carlos' arms were wrapped around his chest, and a face nuzzled into his neck.

"Can you paint with all the colors of the wind, Kendall Smith?"

The blonde turned around in the embrace and smiled.

"It is beautiful. But I'm not sure which is more attractive; nature, or you."

Carlos, embarrassed, tucked his head under Kendall's chin, and they remained like that for a while, Carlos listening to Kendall's heart beat, and Kendall listening to nature. When the blonde spoke again, Carlos felt it on his nose and cheek.

"When can I see you again?" Carlos pulled away and looked into the questioning green eyes. The answer came easily.

"Tomorrow. At noon. At the same slope where you found me first."

Kendall nodded and stepped away fully, taking Carlos's hand and smiling. He laid a kiss on the back of the tan hand and started retreating. Carlos sighed in contentment; oh yes, this romancer, the handsome blonde, was so close to being his Kendall in that instant.


End file.
